We're A Family
by SailOnMyWaywardShip
Summary: When a hunt goes awry, Sam is turned into a baby and Dean has no idea what to do. He races back to the bunker and calls his angelic lover, Castiel, desperate for help. Madness ensues, but the results just might be worth it. Will have a bit of angst but mostly fluff. [Destiel, rated M because I'm paranoid]
1. Chapter 1

**[A/N: This is dedicated to Laura Messer, who is awesome and one of my only regular reviewers. She submitted me the prompt that inspired this. I'm having this be a post-Deanmon canon-AU with established Destiel but still early in their relationship. No clue how long it'll be yet, we'll see how it goes, eh? Lemme know what you think, reviewers get Castiel cuddles!]**

* * *

They only went on the hunt because Dean was restless and desperate to prove that he was better, that he was in control of the Mark of Cain and not the other way around. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn. Get in, gank the son of a bitch, and get out.

Of course, because they were the freaking Winchesters, it could never be that easy.

It was Sam who discovered that the ghost had been following the orders of a witch. The bitch had gotten ahold of some curse or something that gave her power over the spirit.

Three days of research, two six-packs of beer, and a half-dozen phone calls later, they'd found their witch.

The witch in question was nineteen-year-old Karla Robinson, and she'd been using her spell to torment some people who'd persecuted her for her interest in the supernatural when they went to high school together. Naturally, once Sam and Dean knew that, they couldn't just let her keep going. Dean hated bullies, but he hated witches even more. She'd probably kill them and, while they were definitely at least partially in the wrong, they didn't deserve to die for it.

They loaded up their shotguns with lead bullets and Dean stuck a pistol in his waistband, Sam having the demon-killing knife at his belt. Not ten minutes later Sam was kicking the door to Karla's door in. Guns cocked and ready, they shuffled inside, glancing around suspiciously. With a nod they separated, Dean cautiously going up the stairs to poke around as Sam investigated the first floor.

The first door led to what Dean assumed was Karla's bedroom. It looked so ordinary. Until you checked the closet, of course. Dean's nose wrinkled at the pile of bones in the bowl covered in what looked like dried blood, laid before what appeared to be an altar littered with photos of everyone who'd been attacked by the ghost. Each photo had a symbol Dean didn't recognize painted over the victim's face in blood and Dean felt bile rising in his throat. _Freaking witches,_ he thought nauseously, coming out of the closet and shutting the door gingerly.

He was halfway down the hall to the next room when he heard a crash downstairs, followed by several gunshots and Sam shouting in alarm. He assumed the female shrieking what sounded like gibberish was Karla casting a curse, and Dean was racing downstairs when light flashed from the direction of the living room.

"SAM!" Dean bellowed as more gunshots rang out. Karla's voice was cut off by a piercing shriek, and then everything was eerily silent.

 _Shit, shit, shit,_ Dean thought, panicking as he vaulted over the couch, eyes scanning anxiously for Sam.

The first thing he saw was Karla. She was lying on the floor, staring at the floor with lifeless eyes that had once been a rich, shining chocolate brown. A slow trickle of blood traced down her pale face from a gash on her temple, a few drops falling to join the more rapidly growing pool leaking from the bullet holes riddling her chest. The blood was thick and dark, almost black it was such a rich red, and it reminded Dean of before, before he'd been cured, when he'd savored such acts and didn't give a damn about anything. The Mark on his arm began to burn and Dean felt the blood calling to him, singing a song of slaughter and chaos, promising strength and darkness he could revel in without a care in the world.

A sudden wailing shattered the spell and he jerked his head towards the sound. He froze at the sight that greeted him, growing cold with shock and horror. _Oh, no..._ he thought in dismay, _please no..._

Sam, seeming oblivious to his distress, continued howling, tears tracing down his face. Normally Dean would give him all sorts of hell for crying over a witch. But he'd let it slide just this once, given that his little brother was sitting naked in a pile of clothes meant for an overgrown moose of a man.

Not a baby.

* * *

Only the growing pool of blood spreading slowly towards the bawling baby had Dean snapping out of his shock. He lunged forwards and snatched his baby brother up, absently rocking him as his sluggish mind tried to figure out what to do next.

The last time he'd held Sam when he was so small, Dean had been four and rushing from a burning house. Shivering slightly, Dean acknowledged that at least this was slightly better circumstances. Then he glanced at the Mark of Cain branded on his arm and his face darkened with anxiety.

 _Don't think about that. Focus on Sam and get the hell out of here. Just get to the bunker and then deal with everything._ The cops could deal with Karla's body, Dean had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

Dean snatched up Sam's pile of clothes and carefully swaddled the still-blubbering child in the over-large flannel shirt before rushing out to the Impala. He dithered a moment before sighing and anxiously buckling Sam into the front passenger seat, figuring at least then he'd be easier to keep an eye on. It wasn't perfect but he didn't have a damn car seat and it was the best he could do for now so it would have to be enough.

Rushing around, Dean slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine before slamming his foot on the gas. Sam's sobs became shrieks that grated on Dean's nerves and gave him a headache.

"Damn it, Sam," he growled, wincing at the impressive pitch his baby brother was achieving, "God just-Sam-would you shut up? I don't speak baby!" Exasperated and desperate, Dean jabbed the button to turn on his tapes and almost instantly the familiar sounds of Metallica was coming through the speakers.

Sudden silence from the toddler had Dean glancing over worriedly whenever he could spare a few seconds from focusing on the road. Sam was still sniffling, but he was also yawning now and his huge puppy-eyes were droopy. _Yes, please, go to sleep,_ Dean silently begged. Only seconds later Sam did just that, his eyes falling shut as he leaned back against the seat.

Dean sighed in relief and settled in for the long drive back to the bunker.


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N: Look at me, I'm updating all over the place! This is pretty impressive for me. Fair warning, I probably won't be updating much for the next couple of weeks for two reasons: 1) I'm going on a four-day camping trip with some kids at church (ugh) and we aren't allowed any electronics so we can "have a more spiritual experience", and 2) Afterwards I'm going to come out to my parents, and I'm not sure how they'll react but I'm sort of expecting the worst, so if I vanish from the face of the earth for a while that's why.]**

* * *

Getting Sam to settle down wasn't easy - he would _not_ stop crying, no matter what Dean did. Dean tried everything he knew. He offered Sam food (although he admitted that maybe shoving a salad at a toddler might not have been his best idea), bathed him so that he was clean of any blood or other mess from the hunt, read to him from his favorite lore books, and even put on a _Star Wars_ marathon just because he knew it was his baby brother's favorite.

Nothing seemed to help.

Finally, exasperated, Dean scooped the quivering, pitifully whimpering, snot-nosed mess that had once been one of the fiercest hunters known in the supernatural community into his arms, walking towards the room Sam had claimed as his own when they'd settled into the bunker. Maybe Sam was just tired - kids got cranky and cried a lot when they were tired, right? Dean thought that maybe if he could get Sam to lie down he'd sleep and be less of a whiny bitch in the morning, or at least he'd be quiet long enough for Dean to be able to do some research and get some sort of idea about what the hell to do in this situation.

When the tiny fists gripping his shirt dragged his gaze downwards and he found himself confronted with those wide puppyish hazel eyes peering up at him, Dean was at a loss as to what to do. Yeah, he'd basically raised Sam the first time around, but it hadn't been ideal and it had messed them both up a lot psychologically and emotionally - kids don't raise other kids for a reason. And Dean still wasn't in the best position to be responsible for a kid. So he'd really rather not go down that path again.

But it's not like he could put him into the system, either. God knows what would happen to him there. Dean had had some experiences of his own, and while they hadn't been entirely unpleasant, he didn't necessarily want to put Sam through the feelings of abandonment he'd felt when John had left him at the home for troubled kids.

Basically, he was fucked six ways from Sunday.

Sighing wearily, Dean began to rock Sam as he absently hummed "Hey Jude", the way Mary had for him when he'd been upset as a child. It caused bittersweet feelings to swell up in Dean's chest, a simultaneous reminder of one of his more pleasant childhood memories and of what he'd lost. He didn't know if Sam - either as an adult or this child in his arms - remembered that, but something about the tune seemed to finally reach him through the turmoil of whatever was bugging him, and his wails slowly quieted. Dean sighed quietly in relief, the sudden silence bliss to his aching skull.

Sam leaned against Dean's chest, and Dean could feel him yawning.

"That's right, Sammy," he mumbled, suddenly fighting a yawn of his own, "you get some rest. I'm going to take care of you, don't you worry." Dean sealed his promise with a gentle kiss to Sam's forehead. He didn't even know if Sam could understand him, but he did seem to calm a bit more, eventually drifting to sleep in Dean's arms. Before the elder hunter knew it, his baby brother was snoring.

Dean chuckled wearily, going over to stand by the edge of Sam's bed and trying to lay him down. "Trying" being the operative word, as the child's chubby baby fists clutched at his shirt in the kind of vice-like grip that only toddlers seem able to truly master. Dean frowned and gently tried to loosen his fists, but it only caused Sam to whimper and clutch tighter, making Dean freeze for several long seconds.

When he remained asleep, Dean sighed in equal parts relief and resignation, sinking onto the edge of the bed and cradling the snoozing Sam against his chest, closing his eyes as the dull ache at the base of his skull intensified.

 _What am I going to do?_ he thought miserably, wishing he had some sort of help here.

Almost as if in answer to the unspoken wish, a faint rustle of feathers accosted his ears. Dean's eyes snapped open at the familiar sound, a small grin splitting his features for just a few moments despite the shit situation at the sight of his angelic lover standing before him.

"Hello, Dean," he greeted as usual, a faint answering smile curling just the corners of his lips as endless azure eyes gazed deeply into stunning emerald green. Time seemed to stretch on for a few seconds while they just drank in the sight of each other, Dean allowing himself the now-familiar soothing feeling of Castiel's grace reaching out to him, almost like a security blanket. A soft, pleased sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it, causing the angel's small smile to widen into one of his rare grins.

Flushing faintly, Dean ducked his head and grinned back sheepishly. "Hey, Cas. I'm glad you're here," he said softly, and even though he meant he was glad that Cas was here and could help, his eyes added the underlying statements: _I'm glad you've stuck around. I'm glad you're staying with me._ The angel's eyes warmed slightly and Dean felt something tender building inside him, causing his cheeks to turn a slightly brighter shade of red.

They'd been together for a couple of weeks now, so maybe it was girly and a bit cliche, but Dean always got the warm flutters when Cas was around. He wasn't sure he would ever stop being in awe of this angel, the one who had rebelled against Heaven and sacrificed everything he'd had to give for Dean, the one being who'd always stuck by him, always came back to him without having to be dragged. Some days it still felt like a dream, because nothing this good ever happened to Dean.

After everything that had happened between them, most recently Dean's being restored from his demonic state, this...thing, this bond or whatever, had grown impossible to ignore. And so with great reluctance on Dean's part and nervousness on Castiel's, they'd sat down to talk. And talk they had - they'd hashed out everything between them (Godstiel, Deanmon, and everything in between, both agreeing that anything pre-Leviathan was forgiven, clean slate and everything) before cautiously agreeing to give this romance thing a chance. It was going okay so far, but Dean was still holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The thought caused him to look down at his lap, and he suddenly remembered why he'd been wishing so badly for help in the first place (damned angel was so distracting!). Sam was still fast asleep, thank God.

Internally kicking himself for being so unfocused and for not thinking to call Cas sooner, Dean glanced up at Cas to find the angel studying the two of them quizzically, head tilted in his endearingly familiar manner of confusion. "Dean, you are with child," he stated after a moment, and Dean turned even brighter red, almost choking when his breath hitched in his throat because _that was so not a conversation they were going anywhere near ever again._

After several strained seconds, Dean managed to clear his throat and rasp out, "Cas, this is Sam. He got cursed by a witch or something, and, well..." He jerked his head helplessly at the child cradled against him, something soft lighting in Castiel's eyes as the angel nodded in understanding. "Can you fix him?" the hunter asked, the hope in his voice weak but there nonetheless.

"I can try," the angel murmured, the low, gravelly voice doing nothing to conceal the doubt laced in his tone. Dean grimaced sympathetically as the angel moved closer, kneeling on the floor before him, and placed a hand on his shoulder consolingly. They had gotten a piece of his grace back, but it wasn't enough to restore Cas to his full capacity, so his abilities were somewhat diminished. The range of what he could do tended to be somewhat erratic, so this attempt could go either way. But Dean knew how much it killed Cas that he was unable to help.

It had taken a lot to convince Castiel that Dean wanted him to stay even if he didn't have his angelic mojo, but after much insistence from Dean (and a couple of exasperated but fond confirmations from Sam), Cas had slowly come to accept them at their word. And he'd stayed. Not permanently - he still checked in with Heaven regularly to help restore order after the chaos Metatron had left behind - but every night, he would return to Dean just as the hunter was laying down to sleep (whatever hour that happened to be) and while it had been awkward at first, sharing a bed with Castiel, it was slowly becoming the norm, and the "personal space" rule between them had been eradicated. Dean wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, but secretly he took comfort from the angel's nearness and devotion. Even now, just having Cas here, so close and willing to offer any assistance he could, had something tense and anxious easing inside of Dean.

(God, when had he turned into such a mushy girl?)

Giving himself a firm mental slap and telling himself to refocus, Dean watched with bated breath as Castiel reached for Sam. When the angel tugged lightly, Dean hesitated only a moment before carefully transferring Sam to his arms, hands hovering nervously, ready to snatch Sam back should Cas falter.

He needn't have worried. The angel's hold was steady, albeit gentle, almost tenderly cradling Sam in the crook of one arm, his other hand lightly pressing against Sam's face. His cobalt eyes unfocused slightly and he stopped breathing. It would have worried Dean had he not been aware that the angel didn't technically _need_ to breathe - that he only did so to avoid unnerving Sam and Dean. Knowing that this could take a while, Dean gently guided the angel from his kneeling position with light tugs and pushes until he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, settling in to wait as long as necessary, green eyes trained steadily on his lover cradling his brother so tenderly.

It made something twist inside of Dean, a curious ache that startled and confused him. Cas seemed so natural at this - the nurturing thing, that is. It made Dean wonder what kind of father he might be. The thought had his stomach twisting with nerves and something like...anticipation? Weird. Dean shoved the thought away, feeling his face heat again. It was still way too early in their relationship to consider...that, yet. As much as Dean had come to enjoy cuddling with Cas, waking up next to him in bed, even sharing the occasional tender kiss exchanged in the darkness of dusk or the pale light of pre-dawn, he was still taking time to...adjust...before things got too physical. Not that he had a problem with Cas' being in a dude's body (the whole genderless thing confused him so he tried to avoid thinking about it when possible), it's just that this was all still a new experience and he didn't want to fuck it up by rushing things, and Cas seemed content to follow the pace he set. So the idea of sex, let alone kids, was generally not something Dean thought he wanted from the angel. Not yet, anyways.

Besides, Dean knew he wasn't cut out for the apple pie life. He'd tried, with Lisa, and it had ended disastrously. Dean didn't want to go near that again, and there was no way that he was going to raise kids the way he'd been brought up, so it was really out of the question.

But all this logic going through Dean's head did nothing to assuage the wistful aching that seemed to have lodged itself in his heart as he stared at the two people in the world that meant the most to him.

* * *

It was sometime later (he couldn't say exactly how long) that those glassy eyes blue finally refocused on his, causing Dean to start - he may or may not have dozed off a little. Hey, he was exhausted, so sue him.

He stretched and mumbled around a stifled yawn, "So what's the word, Cas?"

A confused head tilt and furrowed eyebrows were directed his way. "It is an abbreviation of my full name, Castiel. You should know that, Dean, you christened me such when we became friends."

Dean couldn't help a weary chuckle. "I forgot how literal you can be. I meant, what do we know?" He gestured vaguely at Sam for indication. Cas' confusion cleared and his arms tightened somewhat protectively around Sam in a way that had a spark of worry igniting in Dean's chest - he knew the angel would never purposely hurt the kid, but he sometimes forgot how strong he was, or how easily humans break. Cas must have noticed the worry flashing in his eyes, because his grip loosened almost immediately, and Dean relaxed with a smile, grateful that they could read each other so well. He grinned sheepishly and gestured for the angel to continue, scratching the back of his neck.

The angel smiled forgivingly, stroking the wispy strands of pale chestnut hair adorning the top of Sam's head as he spoke.

"The curse's grip on him is already weak because the witch who bespelled him is dead. I believe, given enough time, I will be able to discover a way to reverse it," he said confidently.

Relief burst in Dean's chest so suddenly that he laughed with the headiness of it. "God, you have no idea how good that is to hear, Cas." He grinned and slung an arm around the angel, drawing him close and resting their foreheads together, closing his eyes and allowing himself - just for a few moments - to enjoy the overwhelming sense of comfort brought by the angel and his reassurances. The angel pressed close to the hunter, mindful of Sam between them, their breaths mingling together.

Between Sam's gentle snores and the now-familiar scent of Cas permeating his senses, Dean felt the familiar peace that he usually discovered only beneath the covers in the arms of his angel in the early hours of pre-dawn, before he was fully awake and remembered all the shit he had to deal with, flooding through him.

The spell between them was shattered by Dean's cell phone ringing shrilly. Both hunter and angel jerked as though they'd been electrocuted, staring at each other with wide eyes before a reluctant chuckle slipped from Dean's lips, Cas' twitching slightly in response. Sam made a slight whimpering sound, and Dean's eyes widened in alarm, not wanting the cryfest from earlier to resume. He made to snatch Sam back, wanting to soothe him before he woke up all the way, but Cas waved him off.

"Answer your phone," the angel told him lightly, smiling fondly down at Sam in his arms, "I will take care of Sam." Dean frowned and felt that wistful ache from earlier throb in his chest. He swallowed and nodded, digging the noisy device from his pocket and flipping it open, pressing it to his ear without bothering to see who was calling.

"What the hell do you want at this godforsaken hour?" he almost growled, earning a slight tutting sound from the angel attempting to soothe Sam at his side. Dean just rolled his eyes.

However, his exasperation changed to bright fondness when he recognized the voice on the line.

"Wow, feeling the love, Batman. I'm in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, but if you're gonna be like that never mind," Charlie huffed at him, and Dean could tell even through the phone that she was pouting. He chuckled wearily.

"Hey, Charlie - I didn't mean to snap at you. Long day." He glanced at the now-cooing baby in the angel's arms and felt the knot in his chest twist a bit more as he added, "Long, weird day. It'd be great to have you visit, though."

"...I'm not going to get dragged into some weird case again am I?" she asked, and though she sounded wary, Dean could also hear her curiosity and knew she'd come no matter what he said - once Charlie was interested, she didn't back off until she had all the answers she wanted. He hurried to reassure her.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just...ah...it's hard to explain. It'll make sense when you get here, okay?" Dean rubbed at his face tiredly, sighing. Then groaning quietly as he realized that they still had no supplies to care for Sam until Cas _did_ manage to fix him. "Hey...Charlie? Can I ask you a favor?"

"Dean, I already told you, I don't want anything to do with the supernatural-"

"Nothing like that," he interrupted. "I need you to go on a...supply run, of sorts."

"...I guess I can do that," she said slowly, sounding puzzled. "But why don't you just send Sam or Cas?" she asked.

Dean glanced at the angel coddling the baby with a tender smile, and something in his tone softened as he murmured, "Sam is...indisposed and I don't want to leave Cas alone."

"Alright...what do you need me to get?"

"Anything we might need to take care of a one-year-old-" Dean was guesstimating that to be Sam's approximate age based on his size, but he couldn't really be sure. He rubbed his face again. "-for about two weeks." Hopefully by then this whole fiasco would be over and done with, and if not...well, they could always restock if necessary.

"...I'm not gonna ask. I'll be by in about an hour or so - adios, bitchacho." She hung up before Dean could reply. He chuckled wearily as he tucked his phone away, watching Cas pamper the baby in his arms until those blue eyes met his, a question in their oceanic depths.

"You're really good with him," Dean murmured, the knot in his chest easing slightly into something warm and tender when Cas' face lit in delight at the praise. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the angel's cheek. Then he rose to his feet with a stretch and a groan. "I'm gonna go wait for Charlie near the entrance," he explained, and Cas stood with him.

"I'll go with you," he insisted. Dean wanted to protest, but one look into those determined blue eyes and he knew he had no chance of winning, so he sighed and nodded. Together they traipsed to the sitting room nearest the front door and collapsed on the couch. Dean flopped down first, sprawled across the couch, and Cas hesitated, unsure where he was meant to sit. The hunter rolled his eyes and reached out, grabbing the angel by the waist and pulling him down - carefully, not wanting to jostle Sam - until the angel was sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He was tense until Dean slid his arms around his waist, burying his nose in the soft hair at the base of his neck and inhaling. Then the angel relaxed against with a soft sigh, and everything once again felt right with the world.

He must have fallen asleep as they waited, because the next thing he was aware of was a pounding at the bunker's front door.

* * *

 **[A/N: Ugh I'm not sure I like this chapter much at all, especially the ending. I felt like I rambled a lot and it all just feels awkward...but idk, it's your guys' opinions that matter! Soooo, what did y'all think? Faengirlin, katie1689,** **I'm lookin' at you guys - I know y'all are following this story just like Laura Messer. So, thoughts? Reactions? Review please I need feedback!]**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean leaped to his feet. Or rather, he _tried_ to. The angel nestled against his chest sort of complicated matters. Still, the hunter couldn't bring himself to mind as soft unruly hair gently rubbed against his chin, and he chuckled quietly as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of Cas' head.

The continued pounding of the door intruded on his half-asleep consciousness and he groaned, gently shaking Cas' shoulder. The angel just made a whining sound and batted his hand away, snuggling further against Dean.

"Cas, c'mon man, I gotta answer the door," Dean mumbled drowsily.

"Answer it, then," the angel retorted without moving or opening his eyes, voice gravelly and rough from sleep, a sound that would have Dean hard in seconds if it weren't for the circumstances.

"You have to get off of me. You're heavy," Dean complained, a bit teasingly. The angel grumbled at him, opening one eye to send him a sleepy glare, before reluctantly sitting up, adjusting his grip on the snoozing Sam so the kid didn't wake up. Dean chuckled and lurched to his feet, stretching and groaning as he staggered to the door, fumbling with the many locks before yanking it open.

"What's up bitches?" Charlie said loudly, pushing past Dean into the bunker. Dean stared at the redhead laden down with shopping bags.

"Jesus, Charlie, how much did you buy?" he asked weakly.

"What was necessary," she tossed over her shoulder. "The rest is in my car, make yourself useful and grab it."

 _The rest?_ Dean thought incredulously. Shaking his head, he plodded out to Charlie's yellow bug and retrieved the last several bags, kicking the door of the car shut behind him as he rushed back to the bunker, eager to escape the chilly late-night air enveloping him.

As soon as he shut and locked the bunker door behind him he could hear Charlie's excited babbling drifting to him from the living room.

"...to finally meet you, I've read so much about you and of course Dean never shuts up - "

"Really?" Cas interrupted, sounding curious, and Dean flushed bright red. "What does he say?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean yelped, rushing to interrupt. "No talking about me behind my back, especially to my boyfriend." He glared pointedly at Charlie, blushing darker red when she squealed excitedly.

"I knew there was more going on between you two, Carver Edlund made it so obvious, I just knew it!" She almost danced in place in fangirl glee.

"It's a fairly recent development, calm down," Dean mumbled, setting his bags down next to where Charlie had deposited the rest.

"Okay, so, details?" the redhead demanded, hands on her hips. Dean sighed and scratched the back of his neck, glancing at Cas helplessly, who only shrugged, looking faintly amused as he bounced a now-wide-awake Sam on his lap.

"There's not much to say, Charlie...besides," he continued hastily when she opened her mouth in protest, "we kind of have a situation to deal with at the moment..." He gestured at the giggling toddler on the angel's lap. Charlie followed his gaze and frowned, crossing her arms.

"How did Team Free Will end up with a baby anyways? And where's Sam?" she added, seeming only now to have noticed the younger hunter's supposed absence.

"Well, the short version is that there was an accident on a hunt and Sam is now sitting on Cas' lap."

"...you're kidding me right?" She stared at the baby on Cas' lap with renewed interest.

"Do I look like I'm kidding Charlie?" Dean asked wearily, going to sit by Cas. The angel leaned into him slightly and Dean absently threaded an arm around his waist. Charlie sat on a chair opposite them, eyeing them with a gleam in her eyes that had Dean blushing again.

"No, actually you look very cozy with your angel, Dean. It's kind of adorable," she told him seriously, though there was a grin threatening to turn up the corners of her lips. Cas ducked his head shyly as Dean buried his face in his free hand.

"Charlie come on, this is serious! We need your help," Dean pleaded.

"With what? Caring for Sam?" She arched an eyebrow, continuing at Dean's weak nod, "Why do you need me? Didn't you practically raise him yourself?"

"Well, yeah, but that was years ago and it's not like I did the best job. I want to do it right this time. Besides isn't it a thing that women have a better mothering instinct or something?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "You're lucky I have a niece that I adore and babysit frequently. So," she jumped to her feet, going over to the many shopping bags she and Dean had lugged in, "I bought the basic essentials. Clothes, baby food, diapers, powder to keep away diaper rash, that paste stuff that goes on their butts, a swaddling blanket, there's a car seat in my trunk, and in one of these bags is a cradle you'll have to build. Any questions?"

"...where do we even get started?" Dean asked helplessly, staring at everything and feeling overwhelmed. Charlie tutted and shook her head.

"Take a breath, Dean, don't panic. How about you get Sam dressed, and me and your boyfriend will start making some food?" she suggested, rising to her feet.

"I'm not very good at cooking - " Cas began, looking embarrassed and unsure, but Charlie interrupted.

"I'll show you, it's not that hard. Give Sam to Dean, and we'll regroup to figure out our next move once Dean's wrestled Sam into something more suitable for his new physique."

"I had to improvise," Dean said defensively, taking Sam from Cas - who passed him over somewhat reluctantly, the hunter noticed; he frowned, but decided to ask later - and standing.

Charlie snorted, though Dean noticed she was also watching Cas with something like curiosity. "Whatever. Come on, angel face, let's leave the brothers alone and go make some food." Charlie grabbed Cas' arm and dragged him off, leaving Dean chuckling and bouncing Sam lightly as he walked over to sort through the bags, finding a blanket and spreading it on the table before gently setting his baby brother down.

"Let's get you sorted out, Sammy," he said softly as the soft hazel eyes fluttered. Looking through the bags, Dean found onesies, diapers, overalls, and a lot of other clothes. He wondered how much Charlie had spent and winced a little, shaking his head with a sigh. Something to think about later. Right now, he focused on attending to his baby brother, who was starting to make whimpering sounds again. "Hey hey shhh, don't cry baby bro. Look it's okay, see?"

Dean went over and, checking over his shoulder to make sure Charlie and Cas weren't approaching, crossed his eyes, puffed out his cheeks, and stuck out his tongue - that face had always been able to make Sam laugh when he was little and Dean was hoping it would still work. To his relief, the whimpering stopped, and now Sam was just looking up at him with tired, bright eyes and yawning. Dean chuckled faintly and started to undo the makeshift diaper, substituting it for a real one. "I'm tired too, kiddo. We'll settle for the night soon."

After wrestling him into a onesie that had a cartoon moose head on the front - Dean chuckled, taking a moment to appreciate Charlie's sense of humor - and a pair of pants that seemed to go with it, Dean scooped his brother up again and walked through the winding corridors to the kitchen, rocking Sam gently in his arms as he went.

"...unsure how he feels about it, and I don't want to push him," Dean heard Cas' gravelly voice saying, and he paused, arching an eyebrow.

"Well have you ever brought it up to him?" Charlie inquired.

"No. I know that domesticity and 'the apple pie life' make him uncomfortable, and so I've avoided the subject." Cas sounded somewhat morose and Dean felt a flush of guilt - did Cas feel like he couldn't talk to him? That was the last thing he wanted...what was he keeping from Dean?

A snort from Charlie had Dean re-focusing on the conversation he was listening in on. "Well I think you should talk to him. A lot of that is a front to hide what he really wants - Dean adores kids and has always wanted to be a father, it clearly says so at least twice in the books. If you want kids I'm sure he'd be willing to figure something out."

"Maybe...now's not a good time, though," Cas murmured anxiously.

"Castiel, honey, he's a hunter. There is literally _never_ a good time to bring this up. But he's probably going to take a break for a while to take care of his brother, so I suggest you stick around to take advantage of this opportunity and talk to him."

"You're probably right..."

Their conversation ceased after that.

Dean felt his stomach tighten with dread. Cas wanted kids? Since when? He'd assured Dean when they'd talked about everything that being in a relationship with a man while in a male body wouldn't bother him, and Dean knew that Cas knew how human anatomy worked, so he'd sort of subconsciously assumed this wouldn't be an issue...great, just one more thing for Dean to worry about. As if he didn't have enough on his plate.

Stifling a sigh, Dean looked down at Sam, who was leaning against his chest sucking his thumb. Smiling faintly, the elder brother shifted his younger sibling to his other arm and went into the kitchen. "Hey, guys."

"Hello, Dean." Cas smiled at him, not a hint of unhappiness on his features, and Dean felt his heart stutter again at the idea of having children with him. His train of thought was thankfully interrupted when Charlie came over to take Sam from him.

"You look absolutely worn out, so I'm going to suggest that you eat and then rest up for a while - I'll watch Sam for a few hours while you and Cas sleep, and then we can trade shifts and in the morning we can start looking into a cure."

Dean nodded in relief. "That sounds like a good plan. You're awesome, Charlie."

The petite redhead smiled smugly. "I know I know. You guys would be lost without me. Shut up and eat already. Your boyfriend made you your favorite sandwich."

Dean cast a questioning glance at Cas to see the angel offering a PB & J with the crust cut off and sliced diagonally, his head ducked and a shy smile on his face. A grin split the hunter's weary features and he took the plate, pressing a kiss to Cas' temple. "Thanks Cas." The look of delight on his face had something warm and content filling the hunter as he leaned against the counter and ate.

He watched Charlie with Sam, who was giggling wildly as Charlie lifted him and nearly gave Dean a heart attack by tossing him lightly. Sam squealed in delight and Dean watched anxiously, sighing in relief when Charlie caught him. "For the love of God don't drop him."

"Bitch, please, as if I'd be so careless," Charlie said lightly with a glare.

"Accidents happen!"

"Don't be such a mother hen, Dean," she teased. "Just because you have a baby now doesn't mean you have to have a stick up your ass. I'm sure Cas takes care of that for you."

 _"Charlie!"_ Dean sputtered, turning red. She only smirked.

"Am I wrong?"

"...I refuse to answer that." Dean turned away, scowling, to place his now-empty plate in the sink as she laughed.

"I knew it!"

"You're awful and I'm going to bed," Dean informed her with a glare, still blushing. He glanced at Cas, who was watching the two of them with confusion, and softened a little. "You coming, angel?" He held out a hand, which Cas took with a nod.

"I rather enjoy sleeping with you, and I could use some rest tonight."

"You guys are too cute. I'll wake you up in a few hours for your turn with Sam, so don't get too indecent." She winked again.

"Are you implying that we would have sex?" Cas inquired dryly. "Because that would be wildly inappropriate given the current circumstances, and besides we have yet to engage in actual intercourse, so I doubt you need to worry about - "

"Oh my god, Cas, stop!" Dean groaned, glaring. Charlie just laughed and waved them away. Dean tugged on his angel's hand and led him away, grumbling under his breath.

"Dean, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just trying to assure Charlie that she needn't worry about walking in on us at an inconvenient time and seeing us intimate together -" Cas tried to explain, looking worried that Dean might be mad at him. The hunter silenced him with a gentle kiss, leaning their foreheads together with a sigh.

"She was just teasing, Cas. But I know you meant well. Just...I'm not mad, okay? I'm just really, really tired and would like to sleep."

The angel nodded, seeming reassured, and abruptly lifted Dean into his arms, holding him bridal style and transporting them to Dean's bedroom. Dean turned red again, yelping a little.

"Jeez Cas, warn me before you do that!" he griped, although he didn't really mind. He actually kind of liked when Cas took care of him, or showed off his angelic strength, not that he would admit it anytime soon.

"My apologies," the angel murmured as he set Dean down on his bed. "I simply thought it would be faster."

"It was. Thanks, Cas," Dean mumbled, untying his shoes and kicking them off, shrugging out of his over-shirt and pulling his jeans off. Cas was also undressing, shuffling his beige trenchcoat down his arms and undoing his tie, his shoes already discarded. Dean watched him, secretly enjoying the show. He grinned to himself. Once Cas was down to just his boxers, Dean tossed him a t-shirt as he usually did - Cas didn't own any other clothes and didn't like sleeping in his dress coat, and Dean didn't mind sharing because his clothes would smell like Cas afterwards - and watched as Cas shrugged it on. Dean grinned a little, happy to see the angel relaxed and loose as he so rarely was.

As Dean crawled into bed, Cas turned off the light and came over to join him. Dean shifted over to make room, pulling the blanket over them both and pressing close against Cas, who wrapped his arms around the hunter. Dean sighed contentedly. "Night, Cas," he whispered, already half asleep.

"Good night, Dean," the angel murmured, and Dean felt warm lips brush against his. He smiled sleepily, his fingers curling loosely into the material of Cas' borrowed shirt to hold him close as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **[A/N: So...hey, guys...it's been a while. Sufficeth to say the last almost-two-months have been somewhat hellish, and I am so, _so_ glad to be back because I fucking missed fanfiction so much. This chapter feels kinda fillerish, sorry about that but it's like 1:30 in the morning and I really wanted to update...so here it is. Let me know what you think!]**


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